


Leather

by ell



Category: White Collar
Genre: BDSM, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ell/pseuds/ell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless and kinky smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leather

**Author's Note:**

> This is a plot-free self-indulgent bit of porn written for the Peter-Leather prompt at Elrhiarhodan's Promptfest V. There are some slightly sideways references to all episodes up to 2.10 but nothing specifically spoilery.

Neal loves the smell of leather, he always has. There’s something earthy and visceral, almost primal about it and the contrast between that and the elegant drape of buttery soft jackets or the classic lines of Italian-made shoes is sublime. Boots, too. A good pair of well-made cowboy boots can make Neal want to do things utterly foreign to his nature. Boots exactly like the pair that Peter is wearing right now. It shouldn’t be a surprise to Neal that Peter owns a pair of these, considering the way he apparently can ride. These aren’t the fancy, highly embossed, high-heeled New York cowboy boots that you usually see around these parts, either. These are plain brown cowhide, well-worn from work and walking and riding, heels just high enough to keep the feet in stirrups. They fit Peter’s calves perfectly and they’re meticulously clean, of course. Neal can’t stop staring at them. They’re utterly distracting from what he’s supposed to be doing right now.

Neal wonders how it would feel to be on his knees in front of those boots, in front of Peter, completely at his mercy, just waiting for the command, wanting it so badly that his cock aches and he’s practically drooling from the anticipation of it until finally Peter nods and he’s allowed to fall to his elbows and get his mouth on those boots. He can practically taste the leather, just a hint of polish tingling against his tongue as he works carefully over every inch of Peter’s boots, Peter’s flesh warm against his cheek through the leather as he spends all the time he can just worshipping before Peter reaches down and, with a hand firm in his hair, directs him up until his lips are pressed up against Peter’s hard cock, so close, but tantalizingly out of reach encased in sinfully tight denim... Neal shakes his head slightly to clear it and remember where he is and the task at hand.

El laughs and grins at Neal, touches him lightly on the arm. She looks delicious and positively evil, wearing Neal’s black leather jacket and not much else. She looks at Peter and nods and he drops fast, graceful and strong, like an athlete and now he’s on his knees, wearing nothing but well-worn cowboy boots and a collar in a matching shade of warm brown. El catches Neal’s eye and gives him the same nod she just gave Peter. Neal crooks two fingers at Peter and Peter, still on his knees with his hands clasped together behind his back, shuffles across the thick carpet to Neal and manages not to look awkward as he does it. Neal’s impressed as he always is by Peter’s control, even in this. Neal can’t wait to pound the control out of him because controlled Peter is impressive, but pleading, desperate, taken-apart Peter is fucking gorgeous.

"My belt, take it off me." At Neal’s direction, Peter leans in and brings his hands up to do as he’s told. He pulls open the buckle and pulls. The belt whispers through the loops of Neal’s jeans. " Give." Neal holds out his hand. Peter doubles it and doubles it again, lays a kiss against the smooth leather and holds it out for Neal to take. Neal grabs it in one hand and slides the other through Peter’s hair. "Across the bed, now. On your stomach."

Once Peter is settled, El steps in front of him and wraps her hands around his wrists, pulling his unresisting arms straight out in front of him. Peter is breathing hard already and nothing’s been done to him yet. Neal licks his lips, "Are you ready, Peter?"

Peter nods and a tiny sound escapes his lips, almost a whimper. Neal takes the doubled belt and slaps it against his own palm. Peter whimpers again at the cracking sound. El giggles. Neal does it a few more times and watches as Peter quivers. Finally, he decides to stop teasing and brings the belt down across Peter's taut ass. Peter lets his breath out explosively but makes no sound. El tightens her grip on his stretched arms. Neal strikes again, a bit harder this time. He strikes a third time, leather slapping against sweat-sheened skin, and gets his rhythm, making beautiful red geometric patterns against Peter's skin. At the twentieth stinging slap of the belt, Peter groans and his form breaks. He's rubbing against the sheets, hips unconsciously driving him closer to completion. Neal reaches down and pulls his head back by the hair. "We're not done with you yet, Peter. No getting off without us, you know the rules." Peter nods, stills himself to only jerky twitching and bites his lip. Neal pulls Peter's arms behind him, forearms parallel to each other and wraps the belt around and around, finally buckling them in place.

"Please?" Peter's voice is ragged along with his breathing.

"Please what, Peter?" Neal knows he sounds arrogant and demanding. He means to.

"P-please. Touch me, fuck me, use me, whatever you want, just let me come." Peter's almost there, almost to that place where he lets go of everything and just is. Neal's determined to put him there. He gets the lube and gets Peter ready, first one finger, then two, deliberately pushing them against Peter's prostate again and again, making him buck off the bed with each thrust. El laughs in delight and stands up fully, a thick black cock jutting from the nest of her curls, the black leather harness holding it in place contrasting with her smooth skin. The dildo is already slick with lube. She sheds the jacket and moves behind Peter.

"Sorry, Peter, I don't get to fuck you tonight. It's El's turn." With that, Neal steps away and El pushes into Peter with one smooth, practiced move. Peter pushes back and moans again. She starts thrusting with a perfectly timed rhythm, her hands on Peter's hips, pulling him towards her with each move. Peter's not going to last long at this rate, and neither is Neal. Neal unbuttons his jeans and pulls his own neglected cock out, his hand moving in time with El's thrusts. He's breathing hard, ready to come when he hears El.

"Peter, now. For me." Peter yells and he's bucking on the bed, every bit of control shattered. The jets of Neal's come hit the leather belt wrapped around Peter's arms and back as Peter subsides on the bed, spent and boneless. Neal collapses onto the bed next to him and wraps an arm around him. El joins them on the other side and Peter's safe, caught between them in their double embrace, barely moving, a single contented sigh escaping his lips. Neal echoes the sigh and breathes in the scent of Peter and El and sex and leather.


End file.
